AnnieWon operates at the intersections of mind, body, and spirit, more particularly as a poet, yoga teacher, and medicinal chemist in the Boston area. Her chapbooks are available from venues such as Horse Less Press (Once Upon a Building Block, 2014), Nous-Zot Press (so i can sleep, 2015) and Dusie Kollektiv (did the wind blow it, 2015). Her work has appeared in venues such as New Delta Review, decomp, Entropy, TheThePoetry, TENDE RLION, and others. Her critical reviews can be seen at American Microreviews and Interviews.

NAT RAHA is a poet and queer / trans* activist living in South London, UK. Her poetry includes '[of sirens / body & faultlines]' (Veer Books, 2015), 'radio / threat' (sociopathetic distro, 2014), countersonnets (Contraband Books, 2013) and Octet (Veer Books, 2010). She has performed her work internationally, and poems have recently appeared in Dusie, Datableed, Asphodel and We Have Always Been Here zine. She is currently undertaking at PhD on Marxism in queer theory, and contemporary poetry, at the University of Sussex, UK.

MELISSA ELEFTHERION grew up in Brooklyn. She is the author of huminsect (dancing girl press, 2013), prism maps (dusie kollektiv, 2014), Pigtail Duty (dancing girl press, 2015), the leaves the leaves (forthcoming 2016), green glass asterisms (forthcoming 2016), and several other chapbooks and fragments. Her work has recently appeared/ is forthcoming in Entropy, LUNA LUNA, Lunch Ticket, Negative Capability, Pith, Queen Mob's Teahouse, So to Speak, Tinderbox, & Vector Press. Melissa is a librarian with Mendocino County Libraries where she creates programs & manages the Teen Services department. In the wee hours, she manages the Poetry Center Chapbook Exchange which she created & developed for The Poetry Center at San Francisco State University. More of her work can be found @apoetlibrarian & www.apoetlibrarian.wordpress.com.

An American expat resident in England since 2001, Carrie Etter has published three collections of poetry, most recently Imagined Sons (Seren, 2014), and edited the anthology, Infinite Difference: Other Poetries by UK Women Poets (Shearsman, 2010). She has been blogging since 2005 at http://carrieetter.blogspot.com.

After three painful hours in this windowless place, we left as a sullen family unit.

My sister and I complained the whole way home.

My father—who spent eight hours a day at the lab, five days a week, fifty weeks a year—gripped the steering wheel

and ignored us.

ERIN VIRGIL is a poet and illustrator. She has an MFA from Naropa University and her work has been published by Queen Mob’s Teahouse, Fast Forward Press, Indigo Ink, Wolverine Farm, and Colorado Life Magazine. Her first prose book, memory holes, was published by Monkey Puzzle Press in 2014, and her latest poetry chap is Fantastic Voyage to the Ordinary Planet, out from Dancing Girl Press. She keeps up a movie review blog at emvlovely.wordpress.com.

It's almost Christmas + ignore me if we happen to fall into the same security line.

It's almost Christmas + ginger or cesspool.

It's almost Christmas + for once, I am not broke.

It's almost Christmas + there's too much mistletoe extract.

It's almost Christmas + you've finally started acting like every other else, of course.

It's almost Christmas + I am immediate in my sequins.

It's almost Christmas + how tiresome, these pre-wives.

It's almost Christmas + we're both stubborn in our skulls.

It's almost Christmas + for once, I am not breaking.

It's almost Christmas + you're looped into some Baba Yaga type.

It's almost Christmas + here's a spiked boat.

It's almost Christmas + by definition, this is more than half a cult.

It's almost Christmas + there's no such thing as an unnecessary boundary.

It's almost Christmas + you're either an egg or a very tiny star.

It's almost Christmas + I get ridiculous amongstest this briar patch.

It's almost Christmas + oh Chicago, yeah, Chicago, YES.

It's almost Christmas + let's get checked-up daily.

It's almost Christmas + you're an evergreen-like devotion.

It's almost Christmas + we're crystal grieving again.

It's almost Christmas + asymmetry's all accentuate.

It's almost Christmas + LIPS.

It's almost Christmas + a vessel made for two.

It's almost Christmas + crucifixed.

It's almost Christmas + hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

It's almost Christmas + reindeer paints.

It's almost Christmas + here's a calculator made just for cakes.

It's almost Christmas + I've over-actressed.

It's almost Christmas + the same birthday for all twelve elves.

It's almost Christmas + bring forth more SCIENTIFIC PROOF.

It's almost Christmas + I'm hung up under a dumb Massachusetts moon.

It's almost Christmas + hashtags or bust.

Daniela Olszewska is the author of three full-length collections of poetry: cloudfang : : cakedirt (Horse Less Press, 2012), True Confessions of An Escapee From The Capra Facility For Wayward Girls (Spittoon Press, 2013), and Citizen J (Artifice Books, 2013). With Carol Guess, she co-authored a collection of prose poems titled How To Feel Confident With Your Special Talents (Black Lawrence Press, 2014). She teaches ESL, composition, and creative writing at several Chicago colleges and is currently at work on her first novel.

promissory

Welcome to Delirious Hem

ORIGIN STORY: It was 2006. Some of us wished the women poets we admired would write more about poetry and poetics, experimental, post-avant. Some of them weren’t writing about these things at all. Why not? They’re busy, some of us surmised. Some of them were writing about these things, but some of us were greedy, and wanted them to write more. Some of them were men, and some of us wanted some of them to write about experimental women poets, gender performativity on the page, masculinity via grotesque, etc. Wanted some of them to write about some of these things more/at all.

What if some of us built a platform? What if the parameters were informal, relatively boundless? What if the form invited conversation and huzzah?

But some of us are busy, too. Some of us can’t possibly fit one more dish on our plates, and some of us can’t possibly spin one more plate in the air, and some of us can’t possibly...

Well, here’s what some of us offer all of us: It’s a blog, it’s a poetics journal, it’s a platform. From time to time, a post will appear. It will be exciting, provocative, fresh, or bombastic. It will go with your eyes. It will never stop stop making sense, it will always love you, it will probably work.

Discussion in the comment boxes below is ecstatically encouraged, with the understanding not all members of Pussipo are likely to agree on any given topic (oh how rare, but how delicious the disagreements too), not all contributors herein are members of Pussipo, each contributor is the rightful possessor of her or his own opinion, and some contributors may be more inclined to respond to comments directed their way than others. Which is just to say what should be obvious: We are various. We aim to mix it up.